Life does not flash before your eyes when you die. At least, not in the way I thought it would.


    There is immense pain, both cold and hot and then your brain starts to wander. There might have been memories of a rough childhood and an accident prone youth somewhere in there but I couldn''t be sure what I saw.


    I did see the ground come up to meet me; I saw the blood. Before I could react, my mind saw a single image, and it burned into the back of my eyes as the pain engulfed my entire being. I saw her face, the cold smile of my ex-girlfriend as the icy grip of the end wrapped around my throat. I coughed and there was more blood.


    In that moment there was just her and those crystalline emerald eyes piercing into me, judging me. The accusation of failure painted across her lovely features, and then there was darkness.


    When I awoke the first time, the paramedic was busily making sure my insides weren’t my outsides. Apparently I was clinically dead for six minutes. I should have been brain dead. My mother would tell you I already was.


    I remembered flashes of moments; the ambulance lights, the panicked expression on the paramedics face as I died the second time. This time four minutes thirty two seconds.


    But more than anything I remember the Reaper. It stood at the end of my stretcher, ethereal like. It reminded me of wispy smoke taking the shape of a cloak. I saw no indication that it had human features.


    Never would I be accused of being a religious person. I never went to church, or subscribed to a doctrine of faith. My mother had practised Wicca, my father was a born-again. Somewhere between the beatings and emotional trauma, the best parts of both those religions were lost on my parents. Even after they had split.


    I learned something very important; Death cares not what we preach or practise. We are all truly equal in the moment of our end.


    I came too about a day and a half later to a man in a grey suit sitting in the chair next to me. He was busying himself with the dirt underneath his fingernails, and occasionally smoothed a few locks of hair into his greasy slicked back mop.


    “Oh good, you’re awake.” He said informally. His voice grated on my returning senses.


    “I wish I wasn’t.” I replied. Trying to sit forward brought pain induced nausea. I decided to lay back and save myself the trouble.


    “Who are you?” My voice was hoarse from intubation and dehydration.


    “My name is Anders Pendragon,” He stood up and straightened out his suit. The man seemed to tower over me, but perhaps that was only because of the stretcher bed. “I work for an organization that has taken an interest in you."


    Great, I thought. The cops are here to make this whole situation worse.


    “Let me set something straight,” I choked on the last word and the man handed me a cup of warm water from beside the bed. I drank it down greedily, half drowning myself.


    “I was only defending myself. And besides, he killed me. Like, actually killed me. I think that its safe to say I got the worst of it. If she hadn''t of...” I trailed off realizing slowly that this strange man, in his grey pin-striped suit, was not a cop.


    He looked at me sympathetically… or was it pity?


    “From the way I hear it told, you did quite a fair bit to him before he was able to get his knife into you. You put up one hell of a fight for someone that had been stabbed. And not many people can say they''ve come back from the dead after being disemboweled,” He sat on the edge of the bed. I wanted to shift away. This man made me uncomfortable and every fibre of my being wanted to pull the little string beside the bed to call the nurse.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    “However, I fear you misunderstand my purpose here. I work for an organization called the Order of Vigilance. Its a group of very unique individuals working towards making the world a better place by controlling...” He froze, mulling over his words carefully. "...potiential hazards for humanity."


    A million questions rushed through my brain. Order of Vigilance? Was I being recruited into a superhero team? And if so, why me?


    What did any of this have to do with my ex-girlfriend having her new boyfriend gut me like a fish? I tried to come up with a smart response but my head swam.


    “Huh?” I said out loud. Real profound…


    “It is the Order’s belief that someone who has defied death in such a way as you, might be able to assist us in controlling and containing a particularly…difficult item." The man motioned to my abdomen which was still tightly bandaged.


    "I’ve been sent to recruit you, Dyson Weiss and offer you a most agreeable starting wage. I’d also like to assure you that your present condition will not hinder you in obtaining life insurance through our benefits package, as it appears you will certainly need it.”


    I kept asking myself if this guy was for real. I stared at him and his calm demeanor. His disarming smile was causing the opposite of its intended effect. I wanted to scream out. I wanted to run. None of this made sense to me.


    “What’s the starting wage?”


    Instead, I asked stupid questions, falling deeper down the rabbit hole.


    Death was nothing compared to the door I had just opened. Anders smiled at me, and pulled a card from his breast pocket. He stood again and pressed the card into my hand and gripped gently with both of his own.


    “One thousand USD upon each completed mission. There will be smaller, easier jaunts and those will pay less, obviously. You will be provided with living accomadations here in the city at our headquarters where you will be trained by the other Chosen. Call me when you have made up your mind, but please, sleep on it.” Anders reminded me of a sleazy used car salesman.


    “You never told me what exactly I’ll be controlling. What kind of missions?” I asked, trying to sit up and stave off more nausea.


    Anders chuckled to himself as I weakly tried to raise myself up and motioned for me to stay put.


    “I’m not at liberty to share that information with you yet. Should the money sound appealing, or should you desire to find a higher purpose than grovelling over your lost love, you can reach me at this number.” He shook my hand with the card in it and turned to leave.


    I was stunned.


    He had called me on my shit and I couldn’t even defend myself. Anders wasn’t wrong though and it bugged my sensibilities; he knew too much about me.


    Had he read my medical records? Was I being followed? Maybe he really was a cop.


    Before I could think to ask anymore questions, he was gone.


    “Asshole…” I muttered to myself.


    I looked down at the card in my hand. It was a plain black rectangle with a silver phone number on it. Turning it over, the letters OOV were written in stylized raised printing.I threw it on the chair he had been sitting on.


    How did this guy expect a 20-something year old from Toronto, Ontario who had been dead a day earlier to go on missions to "protect humanity"? Why had his organization, this Order of Vigilance, noticed me?


    I strained to reach my small pile of possessions on the table beside my bed and grabbed my headphones. I slipped them on and turned on my music, laying my head back down on the pillow and let the painkillers do their job.


    I awoke disoriented to the sounds of a Code Blue. I heard nurses and doctors running down the hall. I could hear them enter the room beside me and the AED charge. After a few failed attempts at recessitation, I heard them call time of death.


    It was jarring, but not as much as the wispy spirit the drifted through the wall and into my room. She was almost completely translucent, dressed in a hospital gown. Her hair and skin were so white they almost blended with the walls. But her bright red eyes stared at me, as I stared back.


    "What the fuck?" I said, trying to move away. The pain kept me firmly in my bed and I shuffled back. "What the actual fuck?"


    "Can you see me?" She asked, her head tilting to the side.


    I nodded, my mouth agape.


    She seemed surprised. But then she turned back and waved at the wall. An old man, equally as translucent, wandered through my wall as well. He was similarly dressed.


    "Can you see him?" The ghost girl asked.


    I looked between her and the old man, who I assumed had just died in the other room.


    I nodded but all I could say was "What the fuck?"